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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912377">For The Love Of My Lord</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman'>Welsh_Woman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>January Jaunts [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Jackson Is A Shit, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, lords and ladies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28912377</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt 'javelin'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>implied Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>January Jaunts [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For The Love Of My Lord</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s not the normal usage that Stiles has for this particular weapon, but when it comes to his honor, Stiles has been more than adapt when it comes to bending things in his favor.</p><p>Besides, he thinks as he glances towards the upper seats encircling the arena, there isn’t much that he can’t do when it comes to <em>this</em> particular prize.</p><p>“Come now, Stilinski. Not caught up in impossible dreams, I hope?”</p><p>Gritting his teeth, Stiles turns to Lord Whittemore, dressed in the finest silks and satins despite the fact that they are in the middle of an open field and far from the lofty halls of the court. Ever one to show of his standing, is Whittemore.</p><p>“Gentlemen!” The Queen’s voice carries out over the area with barely any effort, drawing Stiles and Whittemore’s attention without demanding it. Both men bow before her, and Stiles hopes the small smile he sees before he dips his head is not simply wishful thinking.</p><p>“This is an unprecedented challenge, but one that is to be witnessed by all the Lords and Ladies of the Court. The prize has also been agreed upon, by all concerned.”</p><p>At this, the Queen nods to a Lord behind her, ebony hair gently being ruffled in the breeze as his kaleidoscopic eyes look over Stiles and Whittemore, not allowed to let his gaze linger on one more than the other, in regards to favoritism.</p><p>It is Stiles, this time, that makes a motion when the Lord’s eyes pass over him. A tilt of his head and a twitch of his expression, things that others may see as simple stretches to get ready, but hold a whole conversation for the one looking on him.</p><p>It is hard to tell, but Stiles can see a flush on the cheeks of the Lord when he finally bows his head to a round of polite applause.</p><p>“Then let the challenge begin!”</p><p>The words that he had been waiting for spoken, Stiles takes his weapon and throws it with all his force at the target, gasps and screams echoing from the crowd as it hits dead center.</p>
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